God Was Showing Off When He Made You
by SereneCalamity
Summary: Sometimes it was close to impossible for Erik to take his eyes off Charles. Cherik.


_The title from this story came from a line in_ Tippin' Point _by Dallas Smith. I love writing stories where Erik is completely head over heels in love with Charles. I hope you guys enjoy!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own the character or the title._

Erik Lensherr watched Charles Xavier over the bottle of bourbon and cola he was holding, watching as the brunette laughed at something Hank McCoy had said. The pair of science majors were doing surprisingly well at beer pong up against a couple of English Lit majors. Charles looked absolutely gorgeous—although that wasn't anything unusual. He was wearing a dark, long sleeved blue henley with a couple of buttons at his neck undone, which clung to his lithe arms and toned torso, a pair of jeans that made Erik want to get on his knees and worship his ass, his floppy hair was falling over his forehead, occasionally getting in the way of his piercing blue eyes.

"Careful there, buddy," Angel Salvador said teasingly from beside him. "You got your stalker eyes on."

"Shut up," Erik rolled his eyes, but then quickly re-directed his eyes back to Charles.

"You do," Angel teased in a sing-song tone.

"Not my fault he's fucking beautiful," Erik grumbled, and it hit him just how drunk he was, because there was no way he would ever say that if he was in full control of his mind. Angel obviously thought so as well, because she let out a bark of laughter before slapping her hand down on Erik's shoulder.

"Well, it looks like he's about to leave the room," Angel nodded over to where Charles was talking to Alex Summers, leaning in close to say something in his ear to be heard over the pounding music in the room. Erik felt a twinge of jealousy in the bit of his stomach when Alex grinned and said something back, touching Charles' elbow in a way that portrayed intimacy. Angel let out another snort when Erik tightened his grip around the neck of his glass bottle, watching as Charles threw back whatever what was in his red solo cup, tossed it toward the rubbish bin in the corner of the room and then wound his way out of the room. The house party had just gotten bigger and bigger as the night had gone on, and quite frankly, the only reason Erik wasn't getting jostled and pushed around like every other person was because most people were downright scared of him, so they gave him a wide berth.

"I'm just gonna...Go," Erik muttered, knowing that there really wasn't much point in lying to Angel, because the dark haired vixen would see straight through any excuse he gave.

"Go get 'im," Angel crowed after him as he ditched his bottle of bourbon on one of the sticky plastic tables and crossed the room, his eyes locked on the door that Charles had just walked through. Armando Muñoz came through the door, from the hallway it led to, and gave Erik a knowing look, similar to the one that Angel had given him.

Was he that disgustingly obvious?

"He went to the bathroom upstairs," Aramando said with a wave of his hand to the left side. "Downstairs bathroom is occupied by some chick who drank way too much and is puking her guts out." Erik just jerked his head once in a nod and ducked through the door. There were a couple of people making out in the hallway, two girls stretched out on the steps—looking as though they didn't care at all about the uncomfortable position as the dark haired girl slid her hand up the red heads skirt. If he was any other guy at the party, he would probably stay at watch, but his interest in females pretty much started and ended with Angel, maybe extending to Raven Darkholme on days where she wasn't set on mocking the shit out of him for being completely in love with her brother.

Erik stepped around them, taking the stairs two at a time before reaching the second floor. He had only been on the ground floor of this house, and most of the time he was drunk when he was here—he wasn't even one hundred percent certain who's house this was—and so he wasn't sure where the bathroom was. He opened the first door, and was shouted at by a naked blonde jock who had two girls sprawled on top of him. The second door was a linen closet. The third door was locked, and Erik licked his lower lip before knocking his knuckles lightly against the door.

"Charles?" He asked softly. There was a click as the lock slid across and Erik tried the door handle again, this time the door giving way and opening. Charles was leaning against the vanity unit, his eyes bright and his obscenely perfect red mouth stretched in a smirk as Erik closed the door behind him, once again locking it.

"You were staring at me," Charles murmured, his eyes dropping up and down as he looked Erik over. Erik should feel embarrassed at being caught, but being in a locked room with his boyfriend, who's eyes were heated and body language clearly said that he liked that Erik had been watching him, he just couldn't bring himself to feel ashamed. "You could have just come over to me."

"I don't play drinking games, _myshka_ ," Erik reminded him gently as he stepped closer, the gap between the two men almost closed, and he saw the way Charles twitched at the term of endearment. "You're the only one I play with." Charles' smirk dropped slightly at the corners of his lips, his teeth catching his lower lip and chewing down, as though to stop himself from making any noise. Erik reached out and touched Charles' hand, which was resting against his thigh. He traced his fingers over the back of the hand, before Charles turned it over, palm upward, and Erik ran his finger over each of the long, elegant digits, which were stained with ink from all his time spent scribbling in text books. Charles shivered as Erik's touch moved, gliding over his belt, before hooking a finger underneath the hem of the brunette's shirt, lifting it upward so that he could touch the soft skin that it was hiding.

"Erik," his voice was a whimper and Erik throbbed in his pants. Erik's other hand joined his other under Charles' shirt, large, calloused hands spreading out against Charles' abdomen, feeling the shivers and tremors beneath his lovers skin. They had been together for nearly three years, and yet the way that Charles reacted to him was still the same; his breath coming out in short rasps, his fingers curling into fists, his teeth chewing down on his full red mouth that Erik was completely and utterly in love with.

"You're so perfect," Erik growled as he leaned in close, his nose brushing up against the the column of Charles' neck, the tendons sticking out and making Erik want to bite down. His nose reached Charles' ear, and he traced the shell before pressing his lips softly against the hinge of Charles' jaw. "The things that I want to do to you..." Charles made a noise at the back of his throat, letting his head fall backwards as Erik left kisses up and down his throat, already making plans to mark up the ivory skin with his teeth and lips before the night was over.

"Erik," Charles gripped Erik's shoulders, trying to steady himself. Erik always knew how to touch, what to say to him—so many people were scared of him, especially when Erik fixed his icy glare on them and started growling in Russian—but Charles had never met someone who loved him so unselfishly, so tenderly, so whole heartedly. Erik glided his hands over Charles' stomach and around to his lower back, dipping downwards and cupping Charles' ass in his large hands. "Shit!" Charles almost squeaked as Erik pulled him forward, massaging his ass and holding him firmly so that their erections pressed together.

"Let's get out of here," Erik whispered, more a statement than a suggestion. Charles nodded his head rapidly, his cheeks flushed prettily and his lips swollen from biting. Erik couldn't help himself—their shared apartment was only a couple of blocks away, but Erik needed to feel his lovers lips now.

He lunged forward, and Charles was more than happy to relent, give over control to the taller man. Charles tasted incredible; like something sweet from whatever was in his red solo cup downstairs, like the mint chewing gum he had been gnawing on before they had arrived, and with that underlying incredible, intoxicating taste that was just Charles. And then there was the fact that Charles completely relented, giving himself over to Erik, letting his tongue push into his mouth, lead the kiss, his body soft and malleable under his touch. When he pulled back, Charles still had his eyes closed, his lips pursed together, red and spit slick. When Charles finally opened up his eyes, his pupils were blown and he didn't look as though he was able to process a fully comprehensive thought.

"Come on," Erik's voice was even deeper and more gravelly than before. "Let's go home."

 _Please let me know what you think in a review :)_


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